Curiosity Killed
by batistaangel15
Summary: After letting Dean borrow his laptop, Roman finds some…interesting bits of information in his search history that could lead to trouble.


**A/N: So. Night of Champions was…interesting. As you can imagine I needed to write this down. It's not the greatest, but hey. I wrote half of it at 1 in the morning, what else would you expect? Anyways, here we go. Apologies if anything seems out of character.**

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Roman came out of the stall after taking a much deserved shower to cool down, draping a small towel over his wet hair and shaking it a bit. Things didn't really go the way he was hoping for with the Wyatts, but things always happened. They told them that he and Dean had a partner ready for the next fight in the next chapter of their feud, and this was the result.

They lost. No other way to put it.

It was a little disappointing, to be honest, he had to admit that. They went into this match feeling good and confident that they had this match in the bag and that they could finally stick it to the Wyatts again and put a close on this 'apocalypse' bullshit in regards to the black sheep that was Braun Strowman. But that wasn't the case.

Dean's call was to Chris Jericho, and they believed it was a decent choice for a third partner. They really did. Out of all the guys in the ring he had the most experience, he was a veteran. He's been in the ring with some of the largest competitors in the business over the years, so this wouldn't be no surprise for him. And things were going…pretty well, for the most part. Maybe not the best of momentum, but when they get started it was hard to stop them. And they had this match in the bag, had it coming to an end and could possibly put an end to this rivalry. For now, at least.

Maybe.

But then Chris just had to tag himself in which, ultimately, was what cost them the match. As if that wasn't enough he didn't even justify himself and just walked away without another word. By the time they got backstage Dean wanted to take full responsibility for their loss since he was the one who gave Chris a call. But Roman couldn't let him do that, no way in hell. They were a team. A _team._ They went into the match together, fought together, stood by each other. It was their responsibility. They lost as a _team._

Not one person was the blame, _both_ of them were. And they were man enough to admit that.

Coming out of the bathroom Roman saw Dean leaning back on one of the pull out chairs with his legs propped up on the bench, a laptop resting on his stomach with his iPod beside him with earbuds in his ears. Roman walked over and tugged one of them out, making him jump slightly.

"Jesus, man," Dean said, straightening up. "You didn't have to sneak up on me like that."

"I wasn't," Roman said. "Not my fault you blast your shit and can't hear anything."

"Excuse me but I need to head off into my own little world sometimes."

"You're always off in another world, uce. You don't need music to help you with that."

Dean rolled his eyes at that and reached over for his iPod, turning it off before wrapping his earbuds around it and placing it back on the bench.

Roman leaned over to take a peek at the laptop screen—noting how it was _his_ own that his best friend was borrowing. It was blank and back on the home screen. He arched an arched eyebrow.

"You better not have been looking up ways to get away with murder," he warned.

"Are you serious?" Dean asked indignantly, raising his head as he gently placed the laptop on the bench. "Getting away with _murder_? Really?"

"Dean."

"Come on, man, what do you take me for? It's like you said: we lost as a team. It was my fault. I called Chris—I know you told me to stop taking the blame, but I was the one who gave him a ring. I know we both take the blame, but I'm still gonna feel like the main man for it."

"You shouldn't," Roman told him firmly. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah, whatever, man. It's done and over with. Written in the books. Can't go back now, can't change anything, can't decide to pick Solomon Crowe instead. We just gotta focus on Monday night and what our next move will be."

Roman sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Exactly. It's not over, uce."

Standing from his seat Dean gathered his shirt and balled it up before tossing it on the other side of the room. Without another word he made his way into the bathroom to take a shower for himself. Roman was a little surprised that his brother was taking things a little calmer than usual. Normally he would curse up a firestorm, kick things around, throw things everywhere and pull at his hair. But he wasn't doing any of that now. He did some of those after leaving the stage and walking backstage, but not to its full extent.

A mellow Dean Ambrose? That had to be more dangerous than the unhinged one.

Shaking his head Roman took the towel around his neck and threw it to the side. He moved the fold up chair over to sit on the bench and placed the laptop in his lap. Clicking on the internet icon he moved the cursor to the search browser before moving to his search history. He had saved an entertainment site earlier today, maybe he could look up random crap to take his mind away from the night's events.

But the moment he went to his search history his eyes widened. He should've known. What else would he expect from letting Dean borrow his laptop?

"Dean?" he called out, but the man himself was already in the shower with the water running.

Roman got up from his seat and kept the computer in his hands. Approaching the closed door he could faintly hear his friend singing along to another Motley Crue song. He knocked on the door.

"Dean? We gotta talk."

"' _Friday night and I need a fight, my motorcycle and a switchblade knife'_ ," he heard Dean singing, much louder than before from the shower.

Roman would usually laugh at his friend's singing voice, but he was serious right now. He pounded louder on the door. "Dean! Get your ass out here!"

"What?" he called from the shower as it still ran.

"We need to talk."

"Can it wait until I'm done in the shower?"

"No. Now."

No answer. Maybe feeling guilty in knowing what he did?

"Dean!"

"Okay, okay, gimme a second," he replied. "I'll be out in a minute."

Roman heard the shower being turned off and some movement. He thought about bursting in the room to get him out, but that was only drastic measures. But after seeing what his best friend was doing with his laptop while he was gone could've qualified as a good enough reason to do so.

Dean finally emerged from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and one around his shoulders, his hair still a bit wet from the shower as he ruffled it.

"What is it?" he asked.

"We need to talk about what you've been looking up on my laptop," Roman told him.

Dean arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Okay…what about it?"

"Seriously? Look at your search history on my laptop."

Roman brought the laptop around to show him the past sites and searches, scrolling down the long list.

Dean nodded then shrugged. "What?" he said innocently. "I don't see anything wrong with these."

"Dean."

"Come on. Looking up detailed coordinations of how to kill a man with a jacket made out of blinking Christmas lights is a reasonable topic to research."

Roman blinked once. "No," he said firmly. "No, it's not."

"But it's science," Dean said defensively.

"No."

"It's a perfectly valid topic."

"Dean."

"I don't see anything wrong with looking up something of scientific significance. I'm a curious guy with a curious mind. I like to learn new things. I'm one for opening myself and my mind to new thoughts and information. Where's the crime in that?"

Roman shook his head. "I've bailed you out before, you know. I'm not going to jail for you just for what _you've_ been searching through _my_ laptop."

Dean sighed and scratched his head, a sheepish expression on his face. "You're right," he said with a nod. "Sorry, Rome. I would never wanna let you take the fall for something I did."

Roman smiled and nudged his shoulder with his fist. "You better. You'd have to bail me out for once."

"I don't know what I was thinking," Dean said. "I shouldn't have used your computer. I should have went out to the library or something."

Well, that relief was gone. Roman rubbed his eyes and sighed. What did he ever do to deserve this? He loved Dean. He was his family, his brother. And that much was stressed. He was the little brother who always got in so much trouble and was constantly being chastised and scolded.

"Hey, I'm only kidding, man," Dean laughed, a wide grin on his face as he slapped Roman's arm. "You should've seen the look on your face."

"I can't help it that you're one that has trouble following you wherever you go," Roman said with a smirk.

"Yeah, well, relax. Do I seriously look like a guy who could go around and kill someone just because they betrayed us and walked away from our match without saying so much a single word?" He scoffed. "Please."

Dean walked back into the bathroom and shut the door to resume his shower. Roman went back over to sit on the bench, his laptop still in his hands. He cleared the search history that his best friend left out of 'curiosity' and went back online. He froze for a moment. Maybe he should check in with the bank to see exactly how much money he had. 'Cause, knowing his brother like he did, he might want to check in case he had to bail him out in case he went after Chris.

But Dean wouldn't do that, he would never. He was a joker…and quite possibly a few slip ups close to becoming _the Joker._ Roman shook his head and laughed. Anything to look after his little brother. So he decided to check into his bank account for a brief moment. Just in case.

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 **Blah. I'm tired. And that's the end of this short fic. See ya. ^^**


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